


The Love Café

by kitty_trio



Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: Explicit Language, Hook-Up, M/M, Multi, Romantic Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-24
Updated: 2015-11-24
Packaged: 2018-05-03 04:06:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,068
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5275910
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kitty_trio/pseuds/kitty_trio
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>date wanted:<br/>I want fanfiction!<br/>A coffee shop AU (bc there is never enough coffee shop aus tbh)where everyone is trying to hook up (^:</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Love Café

**Author's Note:**

  * For [date](https://archiveofourown.org/users/date/gifts).



"Good grief! Not again," Bahorel averted his eyes from the newly enamored couple giggling over their coffees.

"What? What'd you drop now? Tell me you did not drop an order of mille-feuille. Again," Feuilly's voice floated out from the kitchen, "I swear I will snatch you bald, you clumsy oaf…"

"Pfft, don't get your knickers in a twist. Your special custard slices are safe." Bahorel readjusted the boxes a tad, just to be doubly safe, you know, in case some wayward wind blew through the Café Musain and knocked over the--now slightly less precariously stacked--delivery orders.

Feuilly's voice got closer, still muttering choice invectives. Seriously, Bahorel was going to develop a complex. He knew how much pride Feuilly took in his special pastries and baked goods. He wasn't some newbie employee who had to be mollycoddled. 'The Incident' last week wasn't even his fault, Bossuet's weird luck played into it, hence it being referred to as 'The Incident'--air-quotes and all. That brought Bahorel around to remembering the couple (heads now close together as they stared deeply into each other's eyes). Bahorel suppressed the urge to gag. The newly in love were so disgustingly, sweetly ridiculous.

Of course the honor of the most ridiculous couple to fall in love at the Musain Café went to Marius and Cosette. Well, not that they were ridiculous (well, Cosette's definitely not). The whole Bossuet's weird luck (being booted from a pre-law class because he was 'saving' Marius's seat) combined with Courfeyrac's roommate's incessant pining (Marius: falling for 'an angel' from afar and only getting glimpses of her for months on end), concluding in a rom-com worthy scene at the Musain with all their regulars in attendance. And really, from that point when most of them were still at uni, that was when the café got the reputation of **the** hook-up spot around town… or at least their little corner.

"Ah, I see we have a new couple to add to the wall," Feuilly appeared at Bahorel's shoulder, not making him startle, no, not at all. Luckily, Feuilly was busy making dopy heart-eyes at the pair, the sap.

Speaking of romantic saps, the next major Café Musain hook-up had to have been the year Grantaire's old roommate, Musichetta, moved into the neighborhood and took over as the café's head barista. Joly had also known her from somewhere and they swiftly hooked up. Joly and Bossuet were still dancing around each other trying to figure out if they were besties, friends-with-benefits, or something else. Talk about pining (Bossuet) and hurt feelings (Joly) and misconceptions ('Chetta, until she figured it all out and locked everyone but the three of them out of the café's backroom until they sorted out their polyamorous-to-beat-all-polyamorous relationship).

Prouvaire popped through the connecting door to his bookstore, heading immediately to the new lovebirds. Jehan had a knack for knowing when romance was in the air, or the walls between their two establishments were thinner than Bahorel thought. If anyone could get the story out of the couple (and their perfectly captioned picture on the 'Musain Wall of Love') it was Jean Prouvaire.

Now, not all the Musain hookups were permanent. Jehan had had an on-again, off-again thing with Montparnasse--most of their more famous R-rated make ups happened in the Musain, of course. Throughout his post-grad and law school days, Courfeyrac must have hooked up with most of the uni students who worked at the Musain during those years. Male, female, trans, non-binary, at times it seemed Courf would never settle with one person for more than a semester or two. Until Jehan returned from a year abroad tagging along with Combeferre and his stint with Doctors Without Borders. Marius with his minor in languages was supposed to go with 'Ferre, but an unexpected baby-on-the-way shortened his and Cosette's engagement, and put the kibosh on Marius going abroad.

But yeah, Bahorel chuckled remembering how the sparks flew while Jehan and Courf reacquainted themselves upon Jehan's return.

"Hey, are we lollygagging or working here?" Musichetta called out to Feuilly and Bahorel. "You two may own the joint, but I'm work for a living and would appreciate a decent wage because everyone is, yanno, working." Hands on hips, 'Chetta stared down her bosses, "Now you, back to the kitchen and your creations," she scolded Feuilly, and then glared at Bahorel, "And you, if you don't get the deliveries made, you'll miss the start of Enjolras and R's anniversary party. You do not want to do that, yes?"

Musichetta glanced around the café from her spot at the coffee bar, "By the way, what is it that has the two of you standing around at loose ends?"

While Bahorel loaded his arms with pastry boxes, Feuilly pointed out the latest Café Musain 'hook-up'. Whilst discussing the newly-in-love couple with 'Chetta and Jehan, Feuilly mother-henned the loading of his precious confections, irritating Bahorel to no end. Really, as long as they'd been doing this, and still this was how Feuilly treated him? Bahorel huffed, carrying out a (probably too tall-stack of boxes) to the delivery van. Upon his return Feuilly continued his tirade besmirching Bahorel's competence.

"Hey dickwad, I know what I'm doing and you need to get your ass back to the kitchen where it belongs and out of my hair before one of your precious boxes ends up shoved up your—"

Feuilly stopped Bahorel with a shove to the center of his chest, "What did you say?" All 5' 10" of him vibrated in fury, making Bahorel inhale waiting for the explosion.

"Oy! Children, behave!" Musichetta shouldered her way between them, grabbing an ear of each man none-to-gently.

"If I could, I'd fire the both of you," she said directing them back to their respective tasks. "Couple of overgrown Neanderthals, I swear." She muttered to Jehan who smiled in solidarity, the traitor, Bahorel thought as he took the last load out to the van.

~ * ~

It was later, after Bahorel delivered the highly sought after Café Musain confections to area restaurants for their lunch and dinner dessert menus, after he ran the day's errands picking up product ordered from locally sourced vendors, after he'd cleaned up in the living quarters above the café and finally made his way back down, that Bahorel's mind returned to the notable Café Musain hook ups. Surrounded by the love and comradery of his friends celebrating Enjolras and Grantaire's anniversary, how could he not?

Everyone (Les Amis, patrons, customers at Eponine's vintage clothing store, the patients and staff at 'Ferre and Joly's pediatrics practice, the students and other teachers at Cossette's elementary school and R's dance studio, and definitely all staff at the human rights law firm across the street where Enjolras, Bossuet, Courfeyrac, and now Marius worked) knew Grantaire and Enjolras were gone for each other since they met. Back in their undergraduate days R's figurative pig-tail pulling by being disruptive during Les Amis de l'ABC meetings in this very room. Enjolras's snappish responses as he ignored his emotional confusion. For years this went on, Bahorel still couldn't understand how both men were so oblivious for so long.

"Blocking the way, asshat," Feuilly broke through Bahorel's reverie, hip-checking Bahorel as he slid past with a tray of snacks. "What the hell is up with you? You've had your head in the clouds all day," Feuilly asked over his shoulder.

"Thinking 'bout our anniversary boys being the most notable Café Musain hook up, is all," Bahorel responded, catching but not understanding the frown Feuilly sent him. "What? Can't I reflect on the hardships we all had to endure until those two pulled their heads out and realized they were gone on each other?" Bahorel gave an indignant huff. What the hell was up with Feuilly should be the question needing answering… just not now when celebrating was in order.

"R! I've cider on ice just for you," Bahorel called out when he spotted Grantaire's mop of dark curls, whatever had Feuilly's knickers in a twist forgotten for now. "I don't see your other half, nor most of his—," Bahorel coughed, unable to speak the dreaded 'L' word aloud, "—coworkers from across the street."

"They'll be along shortly. Lamarque has a new case for them." Grantaire mumbled into Bahorel's side until he broke free of Bahorel's hug. "I'm surprised you've not heard about it already. 'Ferre and Joly are who alerted the firm to the human rights violations concerning some new patients." R glanced to where Joly, Musichetta and Bossuet were sharing an loveseat.

"Yeah," Bahorel chuckled, “Amis gossip usually is like wild fire, but 'Chetta was a tad miffed at us this morning.” He then scratched at his undercut, head ducked.

"Dude, why would you willingly tick off Musichetta? Do you know the hell she put me through when I tried to climb into a bottle?" Grantaire shuddered that the wrath of 'Chetta could in anyway be worse than a career-ending knee injury to a rising primo ballerino. "How it was Enjolras who was the one to pull me out of that dark period," R shook his head, then his whole countenance changed as commotion at the door signaled the arrival of Enjolras, Courf and Maruis to a hail of greetings and congratulations. Bahorel couldn't do anything but grin when the two caught sight of each other. Gone, those two were so gone on each other, and deservedly so.

Now that everyone was in attendance, the party officially got underway. You'd think they didn't all work and live for the most part in the same neighborhood the way all of Les Amis greeted each other loudly. Drawn out hugs and brief catch-ups on what each other was doing, promises to stop by and visit in depth, people shifting and moving from one seating group to another. Mostly, everyone was sharing fond—or not so fond, but humorous now they were looking back—stories about R and Enjolras being obliviously in love with each other for so long.

Through it all Feuilly flitted here and there with trays of this and that. Whenever Bahorel did catch his eye, Feuilly was usually frowning at him, or a smile was sliding off his face if he was close enough to hear whatever tale Bahorel was reminiscing about. This went on all evening no matter how Bahorel tried to joke Feuilly into taking a break from acting like a hyperactive hummingbird and actually settle and enjoy the party for the Musain's best hook-up couple.

"Enough! I have had enough!" Feuilly came to a rest in front of Bahorel sprawled in an easy chair, long legs stretched out. "How can you, of all people, call them the best of Musain's hook ups? No disrespect to you two," Feuilly turned to smile tightly at Enjolras and R, who like the rest of their friends stood in shocked silence.

Turning back to Bahorel, Feuilly leaned in, "You and me, asshat. We're the café's 'most notable' hook up," Feuilly emphasized his words with sharp pokes to Bahorel's chest. "We were first and we own the damned place!"

"No we're not," Bahorel shoved Feuilly's finger out of the way. He then grabbed Feuilly's wrist to stop him from fleeing when Feuilly sucked in a shocked breath and glanced around for an exit route. "We were already together when we bought the café, dickwad. We precede all hook ups that occurred once we opened." Bahorel blinked up at Feuilly in confusion. How? Why did Feuilly think they weren't already together when they drew up their business plan after an especially steamy weekend in bed? "Did you think we were just fuck buddies or something when we pooled our resources and bought out the Hucheloups?" Bahorel asked in shock.

"Oh. My. God. We so are not the most obliviously in love!" That was Enjolras from somewhere behind Bahorel, but he could care less. Surprisingly for his size (but not really for those who knew him), Bahorel was upright and in moments dragging a spluttering Feuilly back through the kitchen and up to their living quarters upstairs.

~ * ~

Much later, covered in delicious bruises and love bites, Bahorel stretched well used muscles that will be sore by dawn. "Dickwad, we abandoned the party."

"Don't care. Asshat. They'll understand. They'll prolly have the place spotless for us."

Later still, Bahorel nudged his nose into Feuilly's nape, cuddling closer.

"Asshat."

"Dickwad."


End file.
